by Subhash Misra
The sun that will warm a few hearts
Shine a few faces
Tonight the sun will make a day
But that would not be mine
I sleep without dreams
Walled in parched lands
Travelled by seekers in caravans
Trampled by invading boots or rationale
Now the sand stormed by the wind
Blinds the sky that had once seen
Days and nights alike
Gradually more nights fewer days
Tonight I wished the night will end
Same as I believed the last night
And all the nights before
Since I have been here
In the city of elapsed algebra
Abandoned House of Wisdom
Tonight without memories of the sun
That could have been here
They are all getting to leave
And those who are left behind
Get ready to weep to sleep
As if tears are prayers
Death walks commonly in the shadows
Of dwarfs fancying giants
As they looked in mirrors not time
The city was contained in a circle
Before other circles were drawn
Divided by unrestricted water
Mixing with perpetual flow of blood
Grief, remorse, pride and memory
All in one night of the thousand glooms
~
Copyright © 2011 - Subhash Misra
Published: 9/29/11 · Author's Page · Next Poem